Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach
Kuukaku tapped her knee moodily with the bowl of her pipe. Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko exchanged nervous glances from their prostrate positions on the floor, and simultaneously gave a start as Kuukaku blew out an exasperated sigh.

"Who does that bitch think she is?" She said irately, almost to herself. "The one time I need information and she's nowhere to be found! Shihouin shmihouin; she's probably off fucking that annoying fruitcake from twelfth division!" She fixed her gaze directly on the two brothers again; they gave identical expressions of apprehension. "You're sure she's not in Soul Society?"

"Nowhere to be found, Kuukaku-sama!" Shouted Shiroganehiko.

"Her vice-captain was adamant, Kuukaku-sama!" Koganehiko proclaimed.

Kuukaku sighed again and flicked her hand idly. "I want to know the minute she steps foot in Sereitei, boys. Did Kaien see you?"

"Yes, Kuukaku-sama! He sends his regards!"

"I don't suppose he knows anything about this, does he?" Kuukaku had little hope.

"No, Kuukaku-sama! He says to be careful, Kuukaku-sama; he is learning that the Thirteen Protection Squads are a very political place indeed!"

"Figures," Kuukaku said dryly. "I suppose they're drilling the facts into him that no, Sereitei girls aren't just gonna land in his lap the moment he sits down. Jidanbou know anything?"

"No, Kuukaku-sama!"

"Very well. You two can take the rest of the day easy." She emptied her pipe, tapping it carefully against the ashtray.

"Thank you, Kuukaku-sama!" They exited with haste.

Kuukaku leaned back on her pillows and refilled her pipe absently. If Zara- if the Kenpachi's story was true (and she didn't doubt it's verity: he did not seem the type to bother with lies), then Sereitei was, once again, messing around with the afterlives of others. What did Yoruichi think she was trying to pull, going after a baby? Kuukaku racked her brains, trying to think of reasons why Sereitei would want Yachiru, but came up with nothing. She'd asked Zaraki to try and remember the features of his assailants, but it had been dark and the man had been half-blinded by the slash down his face with a kidou-laced sword. She wasn't going to bother looking for their corpses; they'd have long been looted by bandits and picked at by scavengers. No, the only way to get to the bottom of this was to ask Yoruichi: as the Captain of Sereitei's "band of ninjas", as Ganjyu liked to say, there was nobody else in all of Soul Society who knew as much about the goings-on of its inhabitants as Kuukaku's catlike friend.

And so she had a problem. Kuukaku was not going to send a man and a baby out in to Soul Society with full knowledge that a band of trained killers was there to hack them down and possibly abduct one or the both of them. If there was one thing to say about Shinigami, it was that they refused to back down and quit. Zaraki was only one man: fantastically powerful his reiatsu may have been, but he'd eventually wear down under the constant attacks; Kuukaku wouldn't put it past Sereitei to concoct an elaborate ambush or trap scenario, either. And so Zaraki and the kid would have to stay with Kuukaku until a solution was found, and, openminded though she might have been, Kuukaku could sense that the pair would not make a good addition to the household. The kid by herself, sure, she was likeable enough; Kuukaku could tell, however, that Yachiru would not ever willingly be parted with Zaraki. And the man himself would never fit with the Shiba clan: he somehow seemed to inhabit a different space entirely. The Shibas were rough since their fall from nobility, but they still retained vestiges of their legacy as the fourth noble house of Sereitei. They knew they were noble at heart, and didn't give a fuck what the rest of Soul Society said.

Zaraki would never be noble, Kuukaku knew. He had a sort of twisted honour in his relationship with Yachiru, but Kuukaku knew the sight of a man too enamoured of the fight to even conceive of what others might think. His careless attitude came from a complete ignorance of anything to care about. The man was devoid of social awareness, and if he knew it, he didn't care about that either. He unsettled Kuukaku. And not just because he'd beaten her at a fight, either. She realized she was calling him "Zaraki" all the time now, and that unsettled her as well, but on a different level.

"Yachiru."

The pink-haired child looked up from where she had been colouring the floor, having run out of paper. She was still pale and looking peaky, but her eyes were brighter.

"Ken-chan!" She rolled over and pushed herself up, wavered a moment, and then toddled over to where her best friend was standing in the doorway. "Yachiru felt your reiatsu and woke up, and there was paper so I started drawing your fight with Bedsheet-san, but I ran out of paper, so I used the bedpost!" She beamed up at him, pointing at various scenes of carnage splashed across the spare sheets of paper which Kuukaku had thoughtfully supplied.

"Pretty creative, Yachiru," Zaraki said, picking the girl up by the scruff of her shirt and depositing her back on the bed. "But ya gotta rest, 'kay? A warrior's no good if he's sick; being sick makes you weak. Stay in bed 'til you're not weak anymore, got it?"

Yachiru nodded sagely, but made a face at the end. "But sleeping is boooring, Ken-chan. Besides, it was you who woke me up!"

"Sorry, kid. I had a debt to pay." He sat down on the bed beside her.

"To Bedsheet-san?" Yachiru asked, crawling under the covers, but she didn't wait for an answer. "She's nice. And good at fighting."

"Yeah," said Zaraki. "Even if she does use that magic crap."

"She's still not as good as you, Ken-chan," said Yachiru knowledgeably, "She's pretty close. But not enough."

Zaraki didn't ask how Yachiru knew these things, any more than he asked about the floor, decorated with a single, unfinished image of Zaraki grinning ferociously as he pinned Kuukaku to the wall with his sword; Kuukaku's face was almost an exact mirror of her assailant's. The two figures were depicted in primary colour scribbles, not very detailed, but both were bleeding from the exact same place on the shoulder.

"Get some sleep, kid."

"Don't wanna." Yachiru crossed her arms.

"What, you need a drink?"

"I'm boooooored, Ken-chan!" Yachiru whined, seeing how much she could get away with, then squealed gleefully when Zaraki gave her a very pointedly annoyed look. He sighed.

"Look, howabout I get some more paper and crayons for ya? Then you can colour in bed."

"And a board." She said. "Otherwise the paper goes all holey when I try to colour in the best parts."

"Alright, and a board," Zaraki got up.

"Ne, Ken-chan?"

He paused on the way to the door. "Yeah?"

"Bedsheet-san is nice."

"You said that already," he said gruffly, turning to leave again, but didn't miss what his pink-haired ward said next.

"I mean she's nice, Ken-chan. Trust me."